Canned Ham

You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet!

2011-03-23T19:09:00.011-04:00

Nearly two years ago I threw myself a going away party for a trip I was planning to take: three months on a tiny island in the Caribbean. I casually mentioned to one of the guests, Tim Ranney, that I was planning to write a little monologue while I was there.

“Do it at Dixon Place when you get back.”

“OK.”

Tim’s the marketing guy at Dixon Place (and one of my oldest friends—we used to stumble out of Boy Bar together) and I thought it would be fun to do a run-through of my modest undertaking before I started performing it here and there and wherever would have me.

Little could I have known that that brief exchange would lead to what has become a rather grand (if I say so myself) one-person theatrical event. The actual space alone at Dixon Place lends itself to a larger presentation, but my choice of Kevin Malony as director really sealed Canned Ham’s fate. Either he wasn’t listening or just ignored me, but from Day 1 he started directing a Big Show and not the dainty little monologue I had envisioned.

And so here we are back at Dixon Place, a year and a half after the first performance of the play. I’ve played six or seven cities over that time--including the entire summer in Provincetown--and no two performances have been exactly the same script-wise or technical-wise or music-wise. We've added and subtracted and thrown out and reconceived and done everything that happens with a new theater piece as it’s developed over time and in front of different audiences.

Those who saw that first performance in September of 2009 will barely recognize what’s on stage now. What they will recognize, though, is the story. I’m still telling the same story. What’s changed is the trappings. And them trappings is swell, I tell ya. It’s a production I could have only dreamed of when I first conceived of the show.

And this production at Dixon Place is not only definitive (as far as I’m concerned) in terms of the physical production, the show itself is now set. Kevin and I are both satisfied (really, too anemic a word in this case) with the script itself. It’s been a long time coming, but Canned Ham is done.

But not finished. By any means. We’re in the process of booking it around the country (and internationally, for that matter—I’m heading to Cancun in April for an Atlantis Resort event and in June I'll be doing the show in Virginia. More about that later.) wherever we can find an appropriate venue. If you’ve got one, Mark Cortale’s contact info is at the end of this post.

So while this may be the final weekend of this production of Canned Ham at Dixon Place (I’ll return with the show whenever they want me) there’s still a whole lot o’ ham in my future.

Tasty!

Please click here for a calendar of performances and to order tickets.

For booking information, please contact Mark Cortale.

Letters! We Get Letters!

2011-03-16T17:29:00.000-04:00

I'm collecting addresses for the Canned Ham mailing list. If you'd like to be up-to-date on all things Ham (and all things Tom) please click here.

At Last...

2011-03-01T22:48:00.011-05:00

Yes, this blog entry could not be more overdue and, to be honest, I’m too swamped to do a really good job with it just now. But I really had to get something down before the show re-opens at Dixon Place in two days, so here goes…

In the year-and-a-half since Canned Ham premiered at Dixon Place the script, the staging, the musical and technical elements of the show have all undergone major and—in some cases—drastic revisions. After the Provincetown run last summer I did a complete overhaul on it for the one-nighter that I performed on my 50^th birthday last November. That’s the version I performed in Key West last month. (That run went very well, by the bye.)

But now, for the month-long run at Dixon Place, my director Kevin Malony and I have assembled and polished and primped and snipped at the play to present what we both consider to be The Final Product.

Those who saw the birthday show will see small but significant revisions to the show. But those who saw it in Provincetown and—especially—Los Angeles will see what amounts to an almost total overhaul of the show. A good analogy would be the earlier editions of the show were a solo piano performance of a minuet versus the fully orchestrated symphony that we’ll premiere in just under forty-eight hours of this writing.

What’s new in it? First of all, lots and lots of work has been done on the text: I’ve had the luxury of nearly eighteen months of previews. (Not quite Spiderman, but still pretty helpful.) I’ve had the chance to change lines and--in some cases--single words from night to night to get the script just where I want it. Huge chunks of script have come and gone and, in some cases, come back again.

Music: One of the best things about doing the show all summer in Provincetown was the chance to meet and talk with the audience around town in the days following. The No. 1 comment I got was: more music, please. Well, I took that to heart and now Canned Ham is fairly bursting with it. Where I previously did a snippet of a song I now perform the whole thing. Entire new numbers have been inserted and in addition to the stuff I perform live, we’ve added lots of audio cues on the “soundtrack.” But the biggest bit of music that’s new to this version is a performance of one of my own songs during which I literally create an entire orchestra myself as I play each of the twelve instruments onstage.

Tech: Before Provincetown the show had virtually no technical element at all. It was barebones. Now, in addition to the audio cues mentioned, I’ve added lots of visual material which is projected behind me during the show. Sometimes it illustrates what I’m talking about, sometime it simply sets a mood. And, once in a while, the pictures on the screen serve to create movement on the set. I had a blast putting together this element of the show.

Lighting: For the first time, we’ve got a lighting designer who’s working with us from the start of rehearsals. Her name is Claire Moodey and, gosh, is she good. I’ve always said the two elements in the theater that add the most magic are orchestrations and lighting. Claire’s work is confirming that. It’s gorgeous. It almost feels like the show was sort of a soft tire before this and Claire came along and gave it a big whoosh of air and raised it up just a smidge above ground level. It’s very exciting for all of us involved.

But for me, the biggest and most formidable addition to this new (and ultimate) incarnation of Canned Ham is—gulp—choreography. Dan Knechtges has come in and staged every single musical bit in the show. It’s great and it’s fun but, oy, is it challenging (for me.) Dan’s stuff is witty and creative and spot on. Dan himself is witty and creative and oh, so patient. He’s also so prolific that he told me he just re-did his resumé and forgot to include one of his Broadway shows (the italics are mine. And for the record, that show was Sondheim on Sondheim.)

It’s been interesting and thrilling to find that each of the above-mentioned new elements of the show has directly affected my performance. Sometimes profoundly. After doing the show this long it’s like dessert to have a chance to reinterpret a passage here, a line there, sometimes an entire sequence.

OK, enough! I have homework to do for rehearsal tomorrow. Oh, did I forget to mention William Ivey Long is coming tomorrow to give his final say-so on the clothes? Silly me.

I really do hope if you’re in New York you’ll find a day to come see the show. I plan to take it around the country after the summer (when I’ll be doing a new show in Provinetown) so it’s got a good long life in front of it. But the March run at Dixon Place is going to be quite the definitive production.

I’m excited! Can you tell?

Please click here for a calendar of performances and to order tickets.

For booking information, please contact Mark Cortale.

50 Down, 50 To Go

2010-11-12T14:33:00.003-05:00

Yeah, yeah… I know. It’s been way too long between entries. I couldn’t agree more. But at least it’s been due to a busy schedule and not (entirely) to mere sloth.

Even this entry will be brief—I’m premiering the new, expanded version of Canned Ham on Sunday night back where it all began at Dixon Place in NYC. This performance will be a benefit for Dixon Place itself so I’m happy to report that it’s totally sold out.

The new things I’ll be trying out on Sunday include (but are not limited to) lots more stories and reminiscences about how I got to where I am today after the death of my husband, Bruce, in 1996. In fact, there are even more stories about Bruce. More fun backstage stuff about porn and Broadway. And, especially, lots and lots more music. From new versions of some of the things I have been doing in the show all along to completely new musical sequences. There’s also a much more developed technical layer to the show involving video and still projections and a new audio track.

In other words, there’s myriad possibilities for total disaster.

Live theater—gotta love it!

There will be more to announce about the future of Canned Ham in the near future, but I’m going to get through with this one performance first. Not to mention turn 50.

Oy.

With our special guests...

2010-08-09T09:11:00.003-04:00

Some wonderful friends came to the show last night at the Art House here in Provincetown. Here I am with illustrator (and legend) Robert Richards and with chanteuse (and legend) Marilyn Maye. Robert included a portrait of me in his book "Allure."

Order tickets to the show here.

The official show website here.

And, of course, those fabulous Canned Ham show shirts can be ordered here.

Source Material

2010-08-06T09:45:00.005-04:00

I'm working on the new full-length version of the script for post-Provincetown productions. That includes assembling additional visuals for the projections we're incorporating into the show. I just created this image (I rented the DVD and literally took a photo of the computer screen and then Photoshopped it) from To Kill A Mockingbird of Jem and Scout after the school pageant. Not everyone immediately recognizes the figure in the show logo, so here, for the sake of comparison, is Scout in all her ham glory along with the logo.

N'est-ce pas?

"Canned Ham II: The Next Generation"

2010-07-30T10:16:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I finished the first pass on the new-and-improved full-length Canned Ham. As mentioned elsewhere, I'm not simply reinstating the material we cut to bring the show down to 60 minutes for the Provincetown run. Some of that material will remain G-O-N-E gone! Some of it did go back intact, but mostly the excised material was rewritten to fit seamlessly with the changes in the current script. But most exciting was working on a couple of entirely new sequences Kevin and I have been thinking about. Who knows if they'll ever see the dark of a theater, but I like how the look on the page and they should be--one bit in particular--very fun to stage.

Of course this is all theoretical at this point since we're still trying to figure out exactly what the best next step for Canned Ham should be.

Oh, the suspense is killing me!

What A Difference A Day Makes

2010-06-08T14:23:00.009-04:00

Well, first of all, the theater here in Provincetown is perfect for the show. The Art House is not literally a proscenium house (because among other things, it does not have a proscenium) but it does have a rectangular house, a wide, deep, raised stage and—ta-dah!—a stage curtain. First time we’ve had that for Canned Ham and we’re taking advantage of it.

I mentioned that director Kevin Malony has added some new visual elements (I always hesitate to use the word “projections” in the context of talking about a show about a porn star) for this production which are shown on the cyclorama. They’ve been executed by this great, talented guy named Zack Kinney and I think they really add a lot to the show. I can’t imagine we’ll ever do another production of the show without them, whenever it’s technically possible, anyway.

“Technical.” Yeah, there is that element to this latest addition (edition?) Since there are quite a few other shows who share the space with us this summer (including another show I’m in) we had a very limited time allotted for tech rehearsal. Consequently the first performance this past Sunday was, uh, interesting. We got through it fine and the audience was enthusiastic, but I actually rushed to the bar after the show for a drink! It was the sort of thing where lighting cues were wacky and images would come on the screen when they weren’t supposed to be there and not appear when they were wanted. That kind of thing. It could have been the makings of a pretty good comedy if it was happening to someone else.

Hence the cocktail.

But we had another tech rehearsal the following day and—with a couple of very minor exceptions—the tech part of the show was almost flawless last night.

The show itself was pretty good, too. Which surprises me somewhat because it’s a significantly different show from the one I performed the night before. I‘ve always wondered what it would be like to be out-of-town with a new show and now I know. There were so many changes and cuts and revisions between the first and second nights that I am amazed I was able to absorb them all in time for the curtain on Monday.

The version of Canned Ham I’d been performing for three weeks in L.A. runs roughly 70-75 minutes. Here in Ptown there’s an unwritten law that shows run an hour. Period. (If for no other reason, there’s another show that starts an hour after ours in the theater next door and the building is not completely soundproofed.) So, in addition to the usual rewrites that I do almost continuously, we had to chop almost a quarter of an hour off the running time. Most of those will eventually go back into the play, but some of the cuts make for a better script.

But wait, there’s more! For various reasons, I’ve never been completely satisfied with the way the show opens. We’ve worked it and worked it but it’s never landed quite the way I hoped. Yesterday on the treadmill at the gym ("Mussel Beach." Cute, huh?) I had a brainstorm. I jumped off the machine with the belt still running and raced home to the computer. When I had what I wanted I called Kevin and he came over and approved it. A completely different, brand new opening. We did a tech of it yesterday afternoon and put it into the show last night and—bang!—just what I was hoping for!

There were other improvements in the text and staging and, as I said, the tech went so much smoother last night, but I’m giving a lot of credit to the new opening. I can’t wait to do it again tonight and tomorrow night.

In other Provincetown/Tom Judson/theatrical news, working with Varla Jean Merman is a complete pleasure. She is an amazing performer and musician and just a total riot. I’m sure the audience wonders why her piano player is hysterical half the time, but I can’t help it. She’s also a huge star here and being associated with her (hit) show is not a bad thing for lil’ ol’ me and my canned ham. Oh, and Varla very generously agreed to record the preshow announcement for my show, so my summer is simply all-Varla, all the time.

So much more to come, but for now, here are a couple of snaps in front of the Art House. Please note, it’s all about the t-shirts!

Order tickets to the show here.

The official show website here.

A short promo video can be seen here.

And, of course, those fabulous Canned Ham show shirts can be ordered here.

The Adventure Begins Anew!

2010-05-31T08:33:00.013-04:00

I slept like a rock my first night in Provincetown, which is a bit surprising as my bedroom wall is about 8 feet away from the wall of the Art House Theater next door (in which I will be performing) and the singer last night had her amp turned up to 11. But I had a fan going for white noise and, besides, I was beat: the trip here from home was a breeze, but it was still a 5-hour drive with a fully loaded car (and a cat riding a shotgun) and maneuvering down Commercial Street (the main drag) on a holiday weekend could try anyone’s nerves, much less a newcomer—my only previous visit to Provincetown was one day in the winter of 1986--like me. (By the way, was that last sentence long enough?)

The lovely and talented David Drake (who is responsible for bringing Canned Ham to the Cape this summer) welcomed me with open arms, helped unload the car, gave me a whirlwind tour of town and then deposited me safe and sound back at my apartment behind the theater. I unpacked my stuff and reorganized the dainty little kitchen. Then I performed a quick feng shui on the place to make it a bit more comfortable. That included a trip to the Stop & Shop for some light bulbs. It’s amazing what one can accomplish by swapping out the 100-watt bulbs for 40-watts. I turned on the iPod, prepared some food to have on hand in the fridge, and Mickey did her part by… well, just by being Mickey. (She’s an even more effective agent of gemütlichkeit than a 40-watt softlight bulb.)

When I was in Los Angeles doing the show earlier this month, she stayed in the city at Johnathan’s. And now she’s uprooted once again from our cabin in the woods to come to the seashore. She’s doing surprisingly well, too. The first time I took her with me to an out-of-town gig (Philadelphia, for Mr. McNally's Some Men) she spent the first couple of days under the bed. But now she’s an old trouper and moves right in and trolls her new digs to get the lay of the land. (My apartment has its own front porch, which is where I’m typing this . I'm sitting next to a window with my coffee and oatmeal while Mickey proofreads on the fly from the other side of the screen.)

We’re behind the Art House in a courtyard-cum-parking area. The restaurant in the theater lobby has some sort of exhaust fan going, which is quite different from the tomb-like atmosphere of the woods in which I live (those fans have been known to drive New Yorkers insane) but the aromas emanating one after the other from the place almost compensate for the lack of silence. And since I’m mere steps from the craziness of Commercial Street really, what can I expect?

The alley through which this back area is accessed provides me with almost the exact view to the street that Jimmy Stewart has in Rear Window. For just a moment, pedestrians of all shapes and sizes take center stage and then head straight to the wings. A gal with a white baseball cap just walked by carrying a takeout cup of coffee and was passed in the opposite direction by a jogger carrying a pair of very muscular arms. There go two ladies with visors. A cyclist. Another cyclist. You get the idea.

This week will be nutsier than most of the summer as I’m rehearsing two—count ‘em—two shows at once: the new and improved version of Canned Ham (director Kevin Malony has plans for an enhanced tech of the show, including some new visual elements,) and The Loose Chanteuse, Varla Jean Merman’s new spectacular, with me as onstage pianist/prop/sight gag.

But all that starts tomorrow. Today is… mine, all mine! I’ll probably start out just walking around and trying to figure out where things are. The streets here tend to meander and I was pretty confused by the time David got me back to the apartment yesterday.

OK… Mickey just gave a sigh indicating that, alright already!, this entry has gone on long enough, thank you very much. So I’ll sign of for now and leave you with this: it’s the back of the post card for the show here in Ptown. We’re using pictures from the shoot I did in L.A. with the one-and-only John Skalicky.

Until next time…

Order tickets to the show here.

The official show website here.

A short promo video can be seen here.

And, of course, those fabulous Canned Ham show shirts (including a new color!) can be ordered here.

Hey, L.A., I'm Comin' Your Way!

2010-04-22T07:56:00.003-04:00

I leave in a few days for L.A. to start performing the show in my first extended run. I have to admit, it’s not what I fist imagined I’d be doing with this project. A year ago, before I left for Saba (the island in the Caribbean where I wrote the script,) I figured I’d be on the road somewhere with the camper in tow, racking up my frequent-stayer points at KOA Campgrounds across the nation and doing one-night-stands one after the other.

But I can’t deny the way it’s worked out is preferable. It just turned out to be more of a play than I had envisioned and so doing a run, at the same venue, for more than just a couple of shows is a real luxury. In the past 6 months I’ve done seven performances, or roughly the equivalent of a week of reviews spread out over half a year. On different stages with different tech capabilities at each gig. So, yeah, I’m ready for a little consistency.

In short: I am really looking forward to the next three weeks.

Speaking of Saba, I found this snapshot on the El Momo Facebook page. El Momo is the little cottage complex I stayed at on Saba and this is the table at Cottage in the Sky where I sat to write the play. No freezing garrets for me, thank you very much.

Here's a little promo video I made for the L.A. Run:

Tickets for the L.A. at the Cavern Club Theater can be purchased here.

T-shirts!!!!!

Moving Right Along

2010-04-13T19:56:00.014-04:00

It feels like Phase I of Canned Ham (the show) is over and I’m about to begin the next part of the adventure. That can be accounted for in a few ways. First, I’m about to head west, so geographically speaking it’s a big change. But last Saturday in Albany was the—for now—last time I’ll do the show as a one-night stand. Los Angeles is a three-week run and, after that, Provincetown will be for the entire summer so the idea of gearing up for a performance almost from scratch after a long gap is behind me.

Thank God. That part of it has been something of a pain in the ass. In a nerve-wracking kind of way.

The show in Albany was the first time I didn’t feel like my primary task during the performance was remembering the script. (On that note, I have yet to do a performance where I don’t go up on the lines at least once. Horrifying, that.) Albany was the seventh performance to date, so I’ve essentially done one week of previews stretched out over six months. It was also the last time for a while I’ll have to restage the show on the fly to fit a different venue. ROCKS, where I did the show, is a club—not a theater—but I was amazed and very pleased at how well it worked in the space.

In addition to a new costume (at the direction of the brilliant William Ivey Long) as usual, the reaction to the show last week prompted some cuts and additions and alterations, so I’ve also never done the exact same script twice. And it’s still got a ways to go before it’s set. (And even then it won’t be “done” because Kevin and I have some more technical additions planned for the Provincetown run.) But I’ve been running lines on the treadmill every day—a fantastic way to get an hour of cardio on a daily basis—so I really feel like I’m getting the script in my bones.

Shutterbug Benjamin Hodder took some really interesting shots during the show and I’m posting a couple here.

Oh, and to answer a frequently asked question: no, I’m not bringing the camper with me to L.A. If for no other reason I only have one week between L.A. and P’town so there’s no way I could make it back to the east coast in time.

For booking and ticket information please visit cannedhamcamperonstage.com

And those marvelous T-shirts can be ordered by clicking here.

Back From the Dead and Bigger Than Ever!

2010-03-15T19:28:00.017-04:00

Hi! Remember me?

There’s been nothing to write about for a while, hence the long absence. There are a few things that have been in the works, but we here at Canned Ham don’t like to mention things until the ink is dry so’s we don’t wind up with egg on our face. The TheaterTWEEDsters (Robbi Kearns, my productive producer and Kevin Malony, my directive-issuing director,) have been toiling away whilst I loll around overdosing on animal crackers and TCM (my drugs of choice) and from straw they have spun gold. (I have no idea how that analogy fits here, but WTF.) What follows is their doing. I'm just along for the ride.

So here we go, ink all dry and face egg-free...

First, that cunning little vixen, Miss Trixie Starr (it was she who presented the World Premiere of Canned Ham in Hudson, NY almost six months ago now, has lined up another gig for the show up here in the northeast in Albany, NY at a bar called Rocks on Saturday, April 3. They just opened their new club space, which is where we’ll be doing the show. La Trix and I went for looksee yesterday and the place and the performing space is just fab. There’s a stage in a corner of the room where I’ll do the show and a go-go platform smack in the middle of the floor. We’re thinking up some fun alterations to the staging to take advantage of that.

The show is still undergoing revisions (I have yet to do the same exact text twice) and we’ll be trying out some new stuff in Albany. Including a minor costume change. Of course, to do a costume change one must take off what one is wearing, so… well, I’ll leave it at that for now.

I have a bit of a rap sheet, er, history in Albany, of course. Years ago I tended bar at a place on Lark Street (the Oh, Bar!) and last spring I spent a few wonderful months working at the Damien Center (the HIV community center there) so I’m hoping some of my confreres will show up on the 3^rd.

I’m excited about it.

At the end of April I head out to Los Angeles for a three-week run of the show at a jernt in Silverlake called The Cavern Club Theater. My gal pal Ann Magnuson got the wheels turning to set that gig up. I have lotsa friends in La-la Land, quite a number of whom figure into the script, so it will be fun (and intimidating?) to do the show for them. The main character in that regard is, of course, Chi Chi LaRue. Ms. LaRue is, in fact, presenting the show out there so I’ve taken out of the script all the nasty things I usually say about her (kidding!) She’s throwing an opening night party on April 28. This will be “coming full circle” to the nth degree since there would be no Canned Ham had I not been “discovered” by Chi Chi on a cold December night in Minneapolis lo these many years ago. (To take up the slack from my shitty 42nd Street contract I was selling pencils on a windy corner of Hennepin Avenue outside of a fashionable boîte and she, thinking they were eyebrow pencils, stopped to peruse my selection. The rest is history.)

L.A. has been on the books for a while, so—while it’s exciting—it’s not the big news of the day.

That would be the fact that after my three weeks in California I come back home to the woods for a week off before heading up to spend the entire summer performing the show in Provincetown. (Huge gasp from the studio audience followed by rolling, excited applause.) Yup, it’s true! The lovely and talented David Drake is bringing Canned Ham to the Cape for the summer season. This will be the second year in a row I’ve had an unexpected and very welcome invitation to spend the summer by the water (ya’ll may remember I was in the Caribbean last June/July.)

I don’t know Provincetown at all, since the extent of my time spent there is about 24 hours—in the winter—in about 1988. So it will be a new and totally exciting time for me. I’m playing in a venue called The Art Theater and alternating nights with the superstar drag-teuse Varla Jean Merman’s impeccable and brilliant cabaret show.

But wait… there’s more!

Who do you suppose will be Varla’s accompanist this summer at The Art Theater? None other than… me! Yes, my friends, I’m really getting back to my roots with this gig: tickling the ivories for a fabulous diva. And the most amazing part of the whole shebang is that the two bookings came completely independently of one another. What are the chances of being booked to do two different shows in the same town over the same summer season? Now that I think of it, if they weren’t actually in the same theater it wouldn’t have worked out.

Sometimes my ever-surprising life manages to surprise even me.

(Varla Jean Merman photo by mmerkel)

Stay tuned for many more details on all of the above as they come in!

Robbi has set up a lovely clearing house website for All Things Ham. It can be found here.

Sometimes it's pretzels and beer...

2009-12-07T19:31:00.004-05:00

The first snowfall of the year in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. What could be more picturesque? Images of the Hammersteins and the Harts cavorting with Wolcott and Benchley; Dorothy Parker spitting velvet barbs at the other snow-dusted guests while everyone throws back hot spiced cider. Yes, it all sounds delightful, doesn’t it?

Unless you’re doing a show there and the roads ice up and everybody decides it’s probably more prudent to stay home rather than risk a fender-bender.

That, folks, was my story this past Saturday when I did the show at Halsteds Cabaret in New Hope. Here I was, a formerly world-famous porn star squeezing the accordion through an hour and a quarter of songs and patter for about 20 intrepid souls nursing their after-dinner cocktails.

It was a lot more Susan Alexander Kane than Gertrude Lawrence.

But y’know what? It was kinda fun! The 20 souls that did make it to the show were appreciative and friendly. It was probably the first time that I know for a fact I got to speak to each and every audience member afterwards.

(Oh, and I was the recipient of a unique compliment: one fellow thanked me for helping him earlier that afternoon when he masturbated to one of my movies “because I’m trying to get a lesbian friend of mine pregnant.” Now, I ask you—who reading this blog has ever been told that? I venture a guess the answer is none of you! Hah!)

My experience doing the show that night was a strange combination of being very self-conscious in front of such a small group while simultaneously feeling very relaxed because it was so very informal on account of the circumstances. I was able to try a few different things performance-wise and comfortably worked a few re-written passages into the script for the first time.

The room at Harlans is lovely, elegant and sophisticated, the staff friendly and helpful and the room in the attached hotel was comfortable and spacious. And what’s more, Johnathan came along and so it was our first weekend getaway together.

It could have been a real disappointment, but you know… lemons/lemonade/blah blah blah. Only one thing and the weekend will be rendered perfect: I hope the Lesbian Friend names the kid “Gus.”

Right In My Own Back Yard

2009-11-21T08:39:00.004-05:00

Well, let’s see. What’s up with Canned Ham these days?

Last Saturday, on my 49^th birthday, I gave a performance of the show here in Catskill, NY, where I live. It was charming. The gals from MOD Café who sponsored the event set up chairs (borrowed from the local Catholic school) in an empty storefront next to their place and made a theater space where none had existed before. It was intimate: 45 seats total. We had to turn people away at the door. I had been prepared to play to a crowd of about 10 so that was a most welcome surprise. At the last minute an additional row of seats was crammed in at the front of the room so my playing space was almost nil. It really resembled the lecture version of the show more than the fully-staged production Kevin and I have been working on these past couple of months. But, it went over really well and was an interesting experience for me. Especially because the lights were up for the entire show. When one is on stage (even when addressing the audience directly, as I do in Canned Ham) one can pretty much pretend there’s no one “out there”, but with the lights up, they were most definitely there.

Since My Production Team (Kevin and Robbi) did not come up for the show, Johnathan (my new boyfriend… can I just start using his name and assume ya’ll know who I’m talking about?) was following along with the script. On his Kindle. Which crashed halfway through the show. Fortunately I did not have to call out for a line.

Anyway, it really did get a great reception and Mary and Dana have asked me back to do an encore of the show in January. More about that as specifics are decided on.

In other news, we just finalized our run of the show in San Francisco. I’ll be doing three weeks in August at the New Conservatory Theater Center. This is the booking I’ve been looking forward to the most. S.F. is a second home to me and I have as many friends there as here in New York, so it will be fun fun fun.

Lots of other developments are in, um, development, but nothing definite enough to mention at this point. 2010 is slowly coming into focus and it’s looking pretty good. As mentioned previously, it’s not going to be how I originally envisioned the show and tour happening, but the don’t call me Tom “Roll-With-the-Punches” Judson for nothin’!

Here is the flier for the next performance at Harlan's Cabaret, December 5^th in New Hope, PA. See you there!

News From The Front

2009-11-07T16:58:00.006-05:00

OK, dude, so what’s up with the tour/show/NY production/column/t-shirt thing?

Good question(s) and I’m happy to answer them here.

First of all, as I wrote in the previous entry, the scope of the entire project really has changed since the two performances in NYC in September. The (positive) reaction to the show really made it clear that the theatrical tour had to be re-thought and in some ways totally reconceived in terms of the travel and booking arrangements.

In other words, please ignore the last eight months of blog entries. (I’m here all week, folks!) But we really are re-thinking how we’re going to go about getting the show on the road. And in terms of the show itself, it’s still being tinkered with. I think it’s really close to being “set” but every performance provides us with new information about how the show plays and what—if any—changes still need to be made. It keeps it exciting, anyway.

The fundraiser we did through kickstarter.com was 110% successful. (And thank you thank you to all who contributed. You’ll be getting a personal thanks from me very soon.) But the venue we were hoping for didn’t work out and it’s the end of the year and theaters are booked and then it’s January and nobody goes to the theater in January and, well, you get the idea. Again, a re-thinking of the plans for a NYC run.

So, just what is happening with it? Glad you asked. We’re booking single performances here and there with the next one being this Saturday (the 14^th) right here in Catskill, NY, where I live. A wonderful couple who own a restaurant called MOD Café on Main Street are taking over the empty storefront next door for the night and turning it into a theater. And yes, it’s also my 49^th birthday that day so you’ll actually get to see me age before your very eyes if you come to the show.

There’s another gig in New Hope, PA on Dec. 5^th at a place called aHalHarlanHhhhhhHarlan’s Cabaret. I like New Hope. I haven’t been there in years, though. In fact, the last time I was in New Hope was to see a play directed by none other then Kevin Malony who directed Canned Ham.

But the big news is that we’ve booked the first three weeks of May (from April 30^th, actually) at a venue in Los Angeles called The Cavern Club Theater. It’s in Silverlake. I was steered in that direction by Ann Magnuson and it looks like it should be a terrific gig. Much more about that in the months to come, of course. I’d love to work my way up the coast after L.A. all the way to Vancouver, if they’ll have me. Then something back here on the East Coast in the summer. You see? Things are kind of falling into place but the details have to be worked out.

Perhaps the biggest change to the whole plan is that I may end up not traveling around the country in the camper. I know, I know… that was the whole impetus for this project. Well, if we end up having a bunch of gigs on the east Coast through the spring, I ain’t hauling the Canned Ham clear across the country just to park it in front of a theater in Silverlake as a sight gag.

But we’ll just have to see…

The Advocate.com column has been temporarily suspended by Yours Truly. It was about the trip and not about the show, so it was going to be quite a challenge to write it from home every month. (Not to mention apparently nobody knows if The Advocate is even going to exist in the same form much longer. I wonder if I’ll ever see that checkie-poo?)

So just where does that leave us in terms of continuity? Exactly here: you can still order Canned Ham t-shirts. Just in time for the holidays, too.

Stay tuned!

Vassar, Girl!

2009-10-01T11:17:00.009-04:00

Where to begin?

The long lapse between entries here is due entirely to Wednesday and Thursday of last week: i.e. the two performances of Canned Ham at Dixon Place in New York. They were—I’ll try to say this without seeming a wee bit immodest—a total friggin’ wackadoodle success on every level. (How’d I do on the modesty scale?) Yes, there were some things in the show that didn’t work, yes, my performance needs some oiling, and yes, a few minor revisions are needed before calling the script “done.” But that said, I was extremely pleased with the results.

Both performances were sold out. Both audiences seemed to truly enjoy the show. Friends popped up from—in some cases—decades past. Some new friends—you know who you are—paid me the compliment of just showing up. Dixon Place wants us back if/when possible.

And, honestly, how many people get to talk about being a prostitute in front of an audience of 100+ people including one’s own parents. Now, that’s entertainment!

OK, about this tour…

You may recall (actually, you don’t have to, here’s the entry) my original plan for this adventure was to do a sort of glorified standup routine with me and the accordion; tell a few on-set stories, sing a few bawdy songs and call it a night. I figured I’d be out on the road in the camper, call up the gay bar in the next town and book myself a gig. Well, thanks to those three days I spent up in Cottage in the Sky on Saba (did I mention I wrote the first draft of the script in three days?) Canned Ham turned out to be an actual play and not simply an excuse to ask for free drink tickets at the bar. And that means…

The booking requirements for the show have grown more complex. Not only does the itinerary have to fit into the calendar (can’t very well play Chicago and Milwaukee on the same day, can I?) it also has to fit onto the map (can’t very well play Tulsa one day and Tallahassee the next, since I’m driving.) If I were bar-hopping, this tour could be done on the fly, but the little theaters we’re now looking at generally work out their calendars pretty far in advance.

In other words, in some respects I’ve shot myself in the foot by making the play more substantial than originally intended. Therefore, the actual on-the-road, won’t-be-back-for-a-year, where’s-the-next-Walmart-parking-lot leg of this adventure may begin a little later than anticipated. That and the fact that everyone involved thinks it would be pretty nifty to follow up the Dixon Place gig with a brief in-town run in NYC.

But, that doesn’t mean that Canned Ham (and The Canned Ham) won’t be hitting the road in the immediate future. We’re lining up gigs within overnight distance as I write! And the next one is going to be October 16^th in Poughkeepsie, NY! Woo-hoo! Two swell fellas, who run a wonderful blog called Big Gay Hudson Valley have lined up a really terrific venue on (near?) the Vassar Campus, the Cunneen Hackett Arts Center, for one night of Ham bliss. It will be the first traditional(ish) theater space I’ve played this show in, and it looks really fun. Who knows, the Canned Ham itself might show up for the event!

Stephan, one of the P’keepsie impresarios (impresaria?) shot this photo of me at the first performance a few weeks ago in Hudson. I’m diggin’ it!

A Tour de Force...

2009-09-14T08:11:00.005-04:00

…of memorization, anyway.

It sounds convenient after the fact to say that my goal for the first performance of Canned Ham was little more than seeing if I could make it through the 48-page script without any train wrecks. But that was indeed my goal. And, I’m happy to say, it was accomplished. Yes, there were a couple of moments as I approached the end of a section when I had absolutely no idea what was coming next. But, fortunately, the script and the staging have evolved to the point where one thing generally leads naturally to the next. “Naturally” being a relative term in the non-linear world of this script.

Trixie Starr really pulled out the stops and there was a full house at Jason’s Upstairs. About 100 people, I believe.

Honestly, I can’t really say how it went (for me, that is; the audience response was very enthusiastic.) I was completely lost in trying to remember the words and trying to project (the stage at Jason’s Upstairs positively eats sound. I virtually screamed the entire performance. Buh-bye to any vocal nuances I had hoped to incorporate) so I was glad to have director Kevin Malony scribbling away furiously during the show.

We learned much that night and have incorporated a lot of new material/changes into the script. In fact, the changes in the script base on Thursday qualify calling what we now have a new draft (4 for those who are keeping track) rather than simply a revision.

And now we have 10 days to work on those changes and rehearse and rehearse and rehearse. Which is why I must wrap this up so I can head into town to meet with Kevin later this afternoon.

Totally random: I was Googling myself the other day (as one does) and it seems that my Advocate.com column was picked up by a website featuring news about the actor Joel McCrae because I compared the Canned Ham to the “Land Yacht” in Sullivan’s Travels.

That tickled me.

Hold That!

2009-09-06T08:38:00.008-04:00

Do I really need to say it again: having friends who also happen to be great photographers is a wonderful thing. One finds it so convenient to be able to pick up the phone and arrange a photo shoot with an artist one can count on for superb images. Don’t you think? Well, with “The Project Known As Ham” I’m running through these folks like water. Beth Schneck was the first, back in late-spring. Her candy-colored images captured the essence of what I think touring the show will be like for me personally. I’m anticipating having Kyle Ericksen do a portfolio of the interior of the camper itself. Kyle was the official Acme Housing photographer and, since I like to think of Canned Ham as Acme’s final project, it’s only fitting Kyle should be the gal to shoot it.

But just yesterday the Ham and I got to stand in front of the lens of not one, but two fantastic shutterbugs. And, what’s more—simultaneously!

I have some magazine stories (about me, not by me) coming out in the next couple of weeks and I thought it would be good to have some fresh photos to accompany them, so I called on my pals Hudson Wright and Mr. Pam. I know them both from my Gus Mattox days (more proof, if any was needed, that terrific and terrifically talented people of all stripes have been involved in that business from the get-go) and they generously offered to schlep upstate and work their magic on me. One of the (three, if you can believe it) local drive-in movie theaters very graciously offered us their location and both Hudson’s and Pam’s pictures came out spectacularly.

Hudson shot the bulk of the images, while Pam shot some behind-the-scenes stuff and provided on-set entertainment.

Obviously I’m not going to publish here the images I chose to send to the magazines, but I’m happy to post a few corollary shots to give you an idea of what we all accomplished.

So, what we’ve got here is:

1) The drive-in sign. (by Mr. Pam)

2) Pam blotting “the talent.” (by Hudson Wright)

3) Hudson and me on the set. (by Mr. Pam)

4) The image we determined, based on the corresponding time stamps, that Hudson was shooting at that moment. (by Hudson Wright)

5) The luscious Mr. Pam. (by Hudson Wright)

6) Hudson doing… something. (by Mr. Pam)

Much more to come…

Oh, and incidentally (“incidentally,” hah!) rehearsals are going great. Thursday night at Jason's Upstairs on Warren Street in Hudson (8 PM) might be a wee bit rough around the edges, but my director Kevin Malony and I are having a ball with this thing.

My new Canned Ham column on Advocate.com

Canned Ham September 23/24 at Dixon Place in NYC.

Tickets available here.

Canned Ham t-shirts available here.

La Publicité!

2009-09-04T12:31:00.003-04:00

My friend Wicky wrote this oh-so-flattering article about me for the current Gay City News. Remind me to send her a check.

Abunchastuff

2009-08-30T17:05:00.007-04:00

I had hoped the first performance of Canned Ham would be a benefit for the Albany Damien Center, my alma mater from last spring, the third week of September. Alas, due to scheduling and conflicts and other things with which I will not bore you, that did not work out as planned. On a purely selfish level, I had wanted to do the show outside of New York City for obvious reason: plays have been trying out out-of-town for over a century to work out the kinks before facing the firing squad that is a New York audience. I put some feelers out there and—thanks to the gods of fate and Facebook—into the void stepped Miss Trixie Starr. Trixie is a local personality and gadfly who, as it happens, has her own Center for the Performing Arts. It’s funny, because the place looks just like a bar with a stage, but who am I to quibble?

And so, the World Premiere Performance of Canned Ham will take place on Thursday, September 10^th in Hudson, NY.

What’s that? Don’t I mean the third week of September? Well, no. We couldn’t make that date work out so we moved the show up a week.

M-m-m-m-oved the show up a w-w-w-w-week? Arggh!

Uh, yeah. My first performance is going to be a full week earlier than planned. So, what the heck are you doing typing on your blog when you should be learning lines and figuring out accordion parts, you ask? Good question—what am I doing? I’m letting you all know about the show, that’s what.

I’ll be rehearsing the show in town (as we country mice refer to the big city) and, since I’ll be around, the lovely and talented Will Clark invited me to be a guest at his Porno Bingo party on Wednesday the 9^th at Pieces, on Christopher Street. That's Wednesday, the 9^th. Y’know, 24 hours before my first show?

Here is the pertinent info for those events along with a portrait of the dainty miss Starr herself. Trixie offered to introduce the evening on the 10th. I hope she also works the door so she can do a bag check and confiscate any rotten tomatoes folks bring with them.

My new Canned Ham column on Advocate.com. Hey, do a kid a favor and leave a comment?

Canned Ham September 23/24 at Dixon Place in NYC.

Tickets available here.

Canned Ham t-shirts available here.

Cumming Submits

2009-08-23T23:57:00.004-04:00

As noted in the previous post, the day after I returned from Vermont, I hauled my can over the mountain to Alan Cumming’s place and parked it outside one of the cottages in his compound. He was having a bit of a house party and in spite of the fact that he was in the middle of directing a friend’s music video and entertaining God know how many guests, he agreed to join me in the camper for a tête-à-tête.

My new Canned Ham column on Advocate.com

Canned Ham September 23/24 at Dixon Place in NYC.

Tickets available here.

Canned Ham t-shirts available here.

One Small Step For Ham

2009-08-20T22:15:00.008-04:00

Neither the camper nor the Jeep broke down. Nor did I, for that matter.

Two road trips are now under my belt and it looks like this idea of hauling 1600 pounds of steel and aluminum behind me just might work.

Last Thursday I took the Canned Ham on its maiden voyage to visit my friend Cass Morgan in Vermont. (The scenic aspects of that trip are elaborated on in my brand, spankin’ new column on Advocate.com. Feel free to leave a comment there. In fact, I beg you: leave a comment.) It was also a test run for Mickey. She’s only been in the car a few times and in those instances she was in the cat carrier and we only drove a few miles. She does not speak highly of those experiences. I put her catbed in the passenger seat and the hosed-down and sparkling clean litter box in back. She found that immediately and took a nice big pee before we got very far down the road. At least she found it.

I took the local road to Albany, at which point I was forced to get on the highway for a bit. My sister-in-law Amy is right: highway driving is easier than the back roads when you have something in tow. You get up a good speed (a dizzying 55 M.P.H. in this case) and the whole thing just hums along nicely.

But it was back to the blue highways once I hit Troy. The main road out of Troy goes all the way to Bennington, VT so I didn’t have to worry about directions too much.

Mickey, who at first seemed more confused than anything else at what was going on outside, soon settled into to a typical cat routine: nap, explore, nuzzle. She seemed fine.

Once across the border into Vermont I came to my first real challenge: the Green Mountains. By this point in the trip pulling the camper wasn’t really too much of a challenge anymore. It was, uh, braking and, um stopping that were not the sharpest weapons in my arsenal.

OK, I thought, trial by fire: mountains. And as I got further into them, the highway department threw construction into the mix, too. At one point, coming down from a summit, the “trucks use low gear” sign got my heart pounding a little harder. The runaway truck ramp didn’t instill much confidence, either, and as I rounded a bend and saw the “One-lane road ahead. Be prepared to stop” sign, the odor of cat urine cutting through my brain and Mickey herself deciding that between my feet was the best place to be, I did sort of wonder what the heck I had gotten myself into.

But it all worked out in the end, just a slight squeal of camper brakes giving away my novice status.

My visit with Cass was, as always, sublime. She’s got a very comfy log cabin that gets nicer every time I visit, but as this trip was to be the subject of my first column, I decided it would be a good idea to sleep in the Ham. Such comfort! Such coziness! I slept like a baby. A baby who had a cat sleeping on its neck.

The trip home was pleasant and uneventful, and I even started to pick up a few towing techniques (like, you want to start thinking about braking about a mile away from the stop sign. The Canned Ham is not quite as hard to land as the Ile de France, but you just want to take your time coming to a halt.)

The next day I took to the road again, this time to join Alan Cumming’s weekend house party in the next county over. (More from that at a later date.) Again, mountains... narrow village main streets... and—the real kicker—Alan’s driveway. If I tackled that beast (and I did) I’m in pretty good shape.

And again, it felt so great at the end of a long evening with friends to “go home” to my house-on-wheels to go to bed. I think it bodes well for life on the road. No matter where I am I’ll be going home to sleep.

And Mickey will be there waiting for me.

September 23/24 at Dixon Place in NYC. Tickets available here.

Canned Ham t-shirts available here.

It's A Miracle!

2009-08-13T07:19:00.005-04:00

“Hey, Bill, it’s Tom. I was going to come by this afternoon to pick up the camper. Is it ready?”

“Yeah, it’s ready. I just have to put the wheels on.”

Ready… Put the wheels on… These two things do not sound like part of the same equation to me.

“Uh, OK, so when should I come by.”

“I’d have to say not ‘til the end of the day. Like 5.”

“OK, sounds good. Because I have to be in Albany by 6.”

Y’know, you just can’t come by and take it right out, though. We have to do a few things like figure out which hitch to use and test out the lights and put the license plate on and secure those two loose windows and make sure the brakes are working OK and install the propane tank and get those mirror extensions on your Jeep and do an inspection.”

“Uh…”

“So just come by around 3:30.”

And, lo, one of us was driven insane. And I’ll give you a hint: it wasn’t Bill.

But everything on that list was, in fact, completed in time for me to get to Albany. It was sure fun watching the wheels go on to the camper and then watching the camper being lowered of the jacks back to street level. I think it was probably the first time I saw the thing at the proper height: before being in the shop it was at my house resting low to the ground on flat tires.

Bill gave me a deadpan towing lesson in the parking lot of the shop (“You do want to brake very slowly because otherwise the camper will pass you on the road.”) before I started out for the short trip home. That was, um, interesting. One definitely knows there’s a 3/4-ton object following behind.

When I returned from my meeting in Albany I spruced up the inside of the camper for the big test-run I have planned for today: I’m making an overnight trip to visit my friend Cass Morgan in Vermont. I can avoid the highways for almost the entire trip there, which is a good thing for my first time out. Mickey’s coming along, too, so we’ll both get an idea of just what the heck we’re getting ourselves into.

Most certainly, there will be a full report in the near future.

In the meantime, here are Wayne and Bill, the excellent, and leisurely, geniuses that are Wolfie’s Tire and Auto.

September 23/24 at Dixon Place in NYC. Tickets available here.

Canned Ham t-shirts available here.

I Wake Up Screaming

2009-08-07T08:03:00.004-04:00

I had a nightmare last night that my mechanic had not done any work on the camper since the initial spurt of activity when I returned home and discovered nothing had been done while I was away. This was probably due to the fact that had I dropped by the garage two days ago to check on the progress and… nothing had been done. Argghh! I realize there’s a good chunk of time left before I plan to hit the road, but you weren’t around when my Falcon was up on the lift for three months waiting for… well, I can’t remember exactly what his excuse was then, but it cost me an entire summer of convertible-ing around the countryside.

“So, Bill, what’s the status on the camper,” I asked.

“Well, you know you can’t just pull brake pads off the shelf for this…” blah blah blah.

“I know that. But what about the other things that could be worked on? The pull-out step, the propane tank holder? Installing those stabilizing jacks in the rear of the camper?”

“We’re getting to it.”

Pause.

“So, when do you expect it to be done?”

“When do you want it?”

“Well, you said it would be finished August 1^st.”

“Yeah, and it’s August 4^th.”

Pause.

I cocked my head. Did he somehow just win that argument with some weird logic? Is this a technique I should remember: simply shrug and state a quasi-non-sequitur with enough quiet authority to confuse the hell out of your opponent?

I left the shop and drove down the road muttering comeback after comeback to myself.

So you can imagine my relief when I dropped by yesterday to find almost everything was done. I don’t even care that Bill asked me about the new taillights (recessed vs. flush-mounted) with a tone in his voice that said “you’re holding me up on this until you give me a decision, y’know.”

As I said, his work is worth waiting for, even if your hair turns gray in the process.

But why dwell?

Tickets for the NYC premiere of “Canned Ham” are officially on sale. Yikes! No backing out now, I guess. The Dixon Place ticket ordering site is here. I don’t want to influence anyone, but I think there may be some sort of post-show shindig after the Wednesday performance.

The tour schedule is starting to come into focus. It’s still mighty blurry but I’m beginning to get a sense of what might be going on with this for the next 6-8 months or so.

Now if I can only decide which accordion to use in the show (I have two, naturally.)

(Oh, and did I mention you can buy T-shirts here?)

Jackin' the Ham

2009-07-30T08:24:00.002-04:00

…and if that’s not a first-class euphemism, I don’t know what is.

I went by my mechanic’s yesterday to see what progress has made on the camper. It’s inside the shop, at least, which is definitely a step up from when I returned home. He’s actually gotten a lot done in just a few days. The coupler and v-shaped thingy on the tongue have been replaced, along with the front-end jack. Wayne is working on securing the pull-out step and the wheels are off so he can rebuild the brakes. Did you know a camper has its own brakes? I didn’t. But now that I know it, I like it. I’m hoping to make a test run to my friends Cass’s house in Vermont the week after next. My mechanic promised me it will be ready by then.

We’ll see…

On the show front, we’ve added a couple of folks to the production team. Mr. Dan Knechtges will be choreographing the show. If he can teach non-roller skating actors to look great in “Xanadu”, and can make adults look like kids dancing in “Putnam County Spelling Bee” he should be able to something with this lummox and his accordion. I’m lucky to have him, fer sure.

And there is an up-and-coming young fellow who’s offered to do a costume for me… what was his name… where’s that piece of paper… Oh, here it is: let’s see, someone called William Ivey Long will be consulting on the wardrobe. Frankly, a jockstrap and a pair of Converse hightops should do it, but I say let’s give the kid a chance. (You all know I’m kidding, right? I’m still pinching myself that William even agreed to take my call, much less work with me on this project. He truly is one of the most generous of humans.)

Other than that, the script tinkering is pretty much done until Kevin and I start rehearsing it in September. So I printed out a hard copy and am gearing up for the gargantuan memorization job. All 43 pages of it. Gulp.

I will be revisiting my past on September 9th when I’m the guest something-or-other at Will Clark’s Porno Bingo at Pieces on Christopher Street. Will was kind enough to ask me to join him even though I’m not really a porn star anymore. I called out numbers at one of his bingo nights a few years ago and, golly, but it was fun! I sat right by the door and announced people as they came in. “(The Duke and Duchess of Windsor, ladies and gentlemen.” “Please give a warm welcome to Miss Nanette Fabray!” Newcomers were generally confused.) More will be forthcoming when there’s more to come forth.

Until then, revel in the beauty that is the Canned Ham on blocks.

Won't You Help "Tom"?

2009-07-22T17:51:00.005-04:00

“Tom” is a person with special needs. These include, but are not limited to, deportment lessons, an accordion teacher, a wardrobe consultant, and a new belt. And, frankly, a life. You can help “Tom” achieve these goals through your purchase of official Canned Ham merchandise. At present, these items include 100% cotton T-shirts in both brown and gray, and deluxe souvenir refrigerator magnets.*

Please visit the Canned Ham Merchandise page to purchase these items. By helping “Tom” you’ll also be helping, well, Tom.

*($1 of each magnet purchased will be donated to the Albany Damien Center, a community center for people living with HIV and AIDS in Albany, NY. Please click here for more info.)

Now that the PSA has been dispensed with, here’s the skinny on Canned Ham and all its various corollary projects:

The 2^nd draft of the script has been completed and I’m ready to work on a further revision with a director. Fortunately, I have a director: Kevin Malony, the brains behind TheaterTWEED, the man who helped introduce Lypsinka to the world at large, and the director of the legendary Fractured Classicks series is going to be whipping my butt (the only part of me that, at present, is not tanned) into shape for the premiere of “Canned Ham” mere weeks away. Kevin and I have known each other for—jeez—more than a quarter of a century but apart from a one-night all-star reading of “The Women” that he directed at Town Hall (in which I played scene change music at the onstage piano and sang for the fashion show) we’ve never actually worked together.

I’m very happy and excited to have Kevin on board for this.

I’m still planning to hit the road in the Canned Ham itself around October 1^st but there are a few dates lined up for the show before I leave. The world premiere will be a benefit performance for the Albany Damien Center, the wonderful HIV Community Center that was nice enough to employ me earlier this year before I left for Saba. That date is TBA, most likely the end of September. And Dixon Place in Manhattan will be hosting the New York City premiere for two performances on September 23/24. If anything else local falls into place I’ll be sure to post it here.

Until then I’ll be practicing the accordion, working up musical arrangements, revising the script, learning my lines and choreography (yikes!) and begging and pleading with my mechanic to please get the work done on the camper. He’s good but he’s none too speedy. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I cam home from the Caribbean a month ahead of schedule.

Finally (and this next is technically unofficial until a formal announcement,) starting in September I’ll have a monthly column on Advocate.com chronicling my travels around the country. I have mon ami Tom in Paris to thank for that.

Even Mickey is excited!

Joint Custody II

2009-07-16T22:16:00.005-04:00

[This is the second entry to be posted simultaneously on both blogs.]

I killed ‘em on Booby Hill.

Since I wrote the first two drafts of “Canned Ham” here at El Momo, and since it was Patrick and Sophie’s invitation to come down here for the summer that inspired the writing of it in the first place, there was a nice poetic symmetry in giving the first public reading of the script this past Tuesday evening, here at El Momo.

We invited about a dozen of the friends I’ve made since my arrival on the island two months ago to a reading to be held in the dining pavilion. Once people caught their breaths after climbing the stairs (6 storeys up from the road, remember?) I plied them with alcohol. As all performers know, a slightly tipsy audience is a friendly audience. No fool, I. Patrick had casually mentioned a couple of days earlier that he’d “make some tapas” for the event. Frankly, he lost control; he put out a spread that a) was beyond belief in its variety and tastiness (bacon-wrapped shrimp, sautéed celery, fish tempura cheese, crackers, pumpkin soup… I can’t even remember everything on the table) and b) made for a hard act to follow. Suddenly I was appearing at the El Momo Dinner Theater.

When everyone was pleasantly stuffed with food and drink I said a few words to introduce the piece and then got underway. Let’s just say I was pleased with the response. I learned a lot about the text from both an actor’s perspective and from the point of view of the author. Some things need to go, others can be fleshed out. Some jokes didn’t work, some worked even better than I’d hoped. Still other lines will remain but will be refashioned. Frankly, it was an invaluable exercise, particularly in light of the fact that the references in the play are particularly American, and (thank God) I found that the scrip seems to work regardless of one's pop-culture frame of reference.

Flipping back through earlier blog entries I see that on April 3^rd of this year the idea of writing a show here on Saba and returning to the states to tour it around the country in the camper really solidified into the plan that is now in place. Just three and half months later and a huge chunk of that plan—the script—is a reality. There are some other details (fun stuff) that I’ll talk more about when I get back home and get things cookin’ on that end. But for now, I can count my summer holiday on Saba a complete, total and utterly fabulous success.

And that’s not even counting my world-class tan line!

It's A Start

2009-06-26T18:17:00.006-04:00

First draft of the script completed Friday, June 26th at 6:17 PM.

The Horror

2009-06-01T10:36:00.001-04:00

Glorifying the American Can

2009-05-31T09:54:00.008-04:00

Just when you thought it couldn’t get more interesting, into the breach steps a force of nature known as Chi Chi LaRue. Chi Chi, as some of you may know, literally “discovered” me in the best Schwab’s tradition in a bar in Minneapolis. I was chatting with her the other day and telling her about my show and the whole Canned Ham project and, well one thing led to another and she said, “Tommy, [she’s the ONLY person I allow to call me that] why don’t I just produce the damn thing?”

And there was light. And it was good.

I dunno, maybe she just wanted to make sure the references to her in the play are positive ones, but whatever the reason I’m thrilled as can be that the person who acted as my mentor when the whole thing started (and, let’s face it, Gus Mattox is the main reason you’re even reading this now) is going to be connected with this show. In many ways I’m looking at “Canned Ham” as the culmination of the adventure that began that cold December night back in 2002 so there’s a certain sentimental richness having Chi Chi on board.

Certainly, now, there will be much more to come. Stay tuned…

Later, Dude.

2009-05-26T23:02:00.001-04:00

I Can Get It For You Retail

2009-05-24T17:21:00.005-04:00

Nature abhors a vacuum. So do shoppers. For the three months I’ll be on Saba the “Canned Ham” T-shirts will, of course, be unavailable. Mickey possesses many wonderful attributes, but opposable thumbs are not among them so she will be unable to address mailing labels. Enter Dan Turk. Not only does Dan have opposable thumbs, he has a shop. In Hudson, NY, the recently opened Count Turkoffky’s Department Store is a tiny emporium of wonderful objects, both wearable and non-. And, as of yesterday afternoon, the Count is the exclusive source for the “Canned Ham” T-shirt. Dan generously volunteered to feature the shirts in his inventory, right next to the hand-made vintage Rockmount Western shirts. Such exclusive company!

So, if you should find yourself in front of no. 6 So. Fourth Street in Hudson this summer, drop in to see Dan. And buy a shirt. You’ll save yourself the shipping charge. Sure you’ll have to spend the 7o bucks for the train up there, but it’s a nice ride.

Here are a few shots of Dan and his store. You’ll notice he’s wearing a cape. Everybody’s doing it.

The Reveal

2009-05-22T07:46:00.009-04:00

I’ve written in years past of the importance—nay, the necessity—of counting among one’s friends top-notch photographers. Not only do they generally make for stimulating conversation, it’s always very handy to have someone around with the ability to document one’s activities beyond what we mere mortals are capable of with our point 'n’ shoots.

What you see below I shall call “Exhibit A.” Beth Schneck is a friend and fellow NYC expatriate who, among other things, used to photograph all the big time art exhibits at Sotheby’s in New York. The stories of being alone in the studio with gazillion dollar artworks are thrilling. My favorite Beth Schneck/Sotheby’s story involves a photograph she took for the cover of the Sotheby’s catalog of Jeff Koon’s “Hanging Heart.” The story of getting a good shot of the metallic sculpture is interesting in its own right, but what intrigued me is that—due to its reflective surface—Beth herself is in the shot. And not only was it the cover of the catalog, it was reproduced on a huge banner hanging outside of Sotheby’s for the auction. The image was reproduced ad infinitum. You may even have seen it yourself. And if you have, you’ve seen Beth.

Her website is here, and it’s terrific.

This particular shoot came about because Beth likes to make portraits of people in their homes. It was she who suggested the slight variation of doing my picture not in my house, but in the Canned Ham. I had to think long and hard about that one. For about two seconds. What a great idea, I thought, and what a nice way to cap off the restoration project. We got out the props and the wardrobe and Beth brought over a lighting setup which floored me, but which, as you'll see, really leant a quality to the pictures that instantly clues the viewer in to what-the-heck this "Canned Ham" thing is really all about. It was terribly difficult for me to choose two pictures for this entry. I more or less put my hand over my eyes and pointed, knowing that whichever image I chose would be great. Mickey was not having it that afternoon, but Beth managed to get a couple that make my feline menace look engaged. There is one particular shot that really sums up the entire vibe of the “Canned Ham” project in toto, but I think I’ll save that one for a special event.

In other Ham news, well, she’s done. I’m sure, come fall, I’ll find one or two things I want to add, but I’m saying finis on my part of this reno project. I got a new jack and caster wheel yesterday at the local RV place (where they are very patient with novices, by the way) and Monday AM my mechanic will come over, replace the wheels and tires and haul ‘er off for the—I’ve gotta say it—important restoration work. Sure, glowing wood paneling and a surround sound TV are all well and good, but if the thing slides off the chassis going through the Great Smokey Mountains, nobody’s really gonna care.

There will probably be one more entry here before I direct your undivided summer attention to…

Camera Ready

2009-05-20T07:23:00.005-04:00

Here is just a little tease; Beth Schneck amidst the detritus of the first official photo shoot for “Canned Ham.” Beth came over yesterday afternoon and worked her magic, creating an actual photo studio set in the backyard. When she gets some images to me I’ll publish one here, possibly as soon as tomorrow.

You’ll be amazed.

Joint Custody

2009-05-16T09:22:00.002-04:00

This is more than likely the only entry to be posted simultaneously on the Saba blog and the camper blog. I just couldn’t decide where it was more appropriate, so it’s hitting them both.

Tickets have been secured for both legs of the trip to the Caribbean (JFK to St. Maarten; St. Maarten to Saba) and, even though it’s more than a week before I leave, I packed my bags. I’m the world’s lightest traveler; for three months away I’ve two carry-on sized suitcases. I figure sunblock and a couple of Speedos and I’m set.

I’ve been so focused on the Canned Ham adventure that the mere act of packing for Saba got me excited all over again for this part of the project. For that’s how I’m looking on the Saba trip, as the precursor to hitting the road in the fall.

But first I have to wrap things up here at home.

My last day at the Albany Damien Center was a day of keeping emotions in check. In spite of my brief tenure there, the place left a profound impression on me. The typical response when telling people about my job was, “it must feel great to contribute in that way.” When, in fact, the dividends from the job far, far outweighed my investment. I strongly encourage everyone reading this to find some not-for-profit volunteer position. Even if just a few hours a week. You will be amazed at what it does for your state of mind.

At what was my final staff meeting (cake… singing... the whole megilah) I was asked about my plans post-Saba, and if I would be coming back to the ADC. I said I would like to put in a few hours in September when I’m back from the Caribbean but that, no, I would not be returning permanently because of the Canned Ham tour I have in the works. The conversation turned to what that was all about and it was then my boss, Dorothy, wondered if I might be interested in giving a benefit performance of the show in Albany before I head out on the road.

The idea was so obvious I’m amazed I hadn’t thought of it myself. So “Canned Ham” has its first official booking: the world premiere of the show will be at a venue and date TBA sometime in September as a benefit for the Albany Damien Center. After that I’ll probably get a one-nighter gig in NYC so it can be billed as “direct from New York.”

So now there is a world premiere engagement, T-shirts, refrigerator magnets and a developing itinerary. Something’s missing, though. What is it….? Oh, yeah. The show. In point of fact, I’m already writing it. The way I work on a writing project is ideas gestate in my head and I move things around mentally before sitting down to a blank page. So it’s starting to take shape even if there’s nothing tangible.

Good thing I’ll have a project to work on while I’m on Saba. I’d sure hate to get bored there.

The photo below is my peeps from the Damien Center on my last day. This is a case of the gang’s not all here; a few key players are missing from the picture.

Kansas City

2009-05-09T21:08:00.013-04:00

I’ve gone about as fer as I can go.

In terms of polishing the exterior, that is. I had the tripod set up to shoot—a lá Muybridge—the hour or two I spent cleaning up the back side of the camper. Well, two weeks later… Jeez, but that was a tough one! Funny how 50 years of oxidation can ruin a fella’s day. Mother’s Aluminum Polish is, indeed, great stuff. But on a normal job. This was anything but.

In essence, I had to get the surface to a point where it could be considered a polishing job that was a bit overdue and not one that involved scraping off the residue of decades spent sitting out in the weather. To help me in this mission my mechanic did something no mechanic has done before: he loaned me one of his tools: an industrial strength polisher that kind of spun me around like a top if my feet weren’t planted firmly on the ground. Picture Harpo Marx wielding on oversized spinning gyroscope and that was me.

He also handed me a container of professional cleaning paste. I ended up going through four of them. This stuff was nasty! Red, muddy and stained like hell anything it got itself onto. I spread it on the skin of the camper and hit it with the Dino-polisher and watched as it turned to a black muck. This had to be immediately wiped clean before the black muck dried into black cement. Even with this cleaning agent and the Cyclonic polishing implement it was a several-hours job. By the time I finished it was a tossup as to who was covered with more black paste: The Canned Ham or just the plain old ham (me.) I won hands-down in the "Guess Who's Sweatier?" contest.

And still it wasn’t done! That just got it to the point where Mother’s could take over. And that meant elbow grease. Nothing else seemed to work. Just me, a bag of rags and 5 tubs of Mother’s. You can see from the photos the difference is really quite amazing. It’s tarnished in spots past the point where I am capable of cleaning it, but after all that hard work I’ll happily live with it. I think maybe a coat of Turtle Wax and we will call the job done!

Oy.

But…..!

When I was in the city this past week I picked up my cushions at Economy Foam on 8^th Street in the Village. I’ve gotten all the upholstery jobs for all my houses done there. They ain’t cheap (I could buy a fleet of campers for what the cushions alone cost) but, dang, they are good! The place is lined with rows and rows of foam and fabrics. By coincidence, it’s in the same location as the former 8^th Street Playhouse, an old movie theater which was my first job when I moved to New York in 1978. Imagine how thrilling that was—not only was I actually working in a movie theater, but when I was hired they were in the middle of a Judy Garland festival! This country boy thought he had died and gone to heaven. And I had, in a way, but I suppose I’d better save all that for the show…

The cushions are, as I knew they would be, fantastic. They fit perfectly and they’re comfortable and look great. It’s really like my kitchen moved out to the camper, with the same fabrics and floor tile. Last night Mickey and I went and watched a movie out there, just to see what it will be like. It was fun! Mickey loved it! I loved it! The surround sound was amazing!

What a year I have in store for myself once I hit the road.

A few minor details (installing the awning, replacing the glass in the windows and the rubber window gaskets, installing the [totally adorable] TV antenna, etc.) and The Ham will be off to summer camp (the mechanic.) Until then I think I’ll watch a movie every night! Maybe I’ll even sleep out there.

Yippee!

Here’s a set of photos of the latest results. Some are before-and-afterish, although not exactly. My friend Nadine, over at Bouler Design Group, and I are kind of fascinated by the ads that Google places alongside these blogs of ours. I’m going to try to force the issue and see what happens.

With that in mind: In the last photo of the set I’m wearing Mondo Unico boxer briefs. They’re 100% cotton and I like the way they fit.

Google me that, Batman!

Floor Show

2009-05-03T17:17:00.004-04:00

Now, that’s what I’m talking about.

"Auntie Hem, Auntie Hem!"

2009-05-03T09:12:00.016-04:00

It’s curtains for me!

I no longer have to worry about the prying eyes of my RV Park neighbors. Deb loaned me her Singer and I whipped up some lovely curtains in no time flat. Quél difference! Now all I need is glass in the windows! (Two of them, anyway.) I didn’t put anything over the capsule portholes in the sleeping area, but one is too high to see into and the other, well, I’ll figure something out when the time comes.

Later today, the floor tile will be going in. I wanted to wait until all the big messes were done before doing that. And installing the new water tank was pretty much the final potential messy job, so that’s out of the way. The old tank weighed a ton and wasn’t that big. The new one is lightweight poly(something) and holds 12 gallons. Yaay! It fit right into the slot and—having square corners—sits more secure than the old galvanized steel behemoth. I shined up the sink pump and tap knob and we’re ready for some H2O!

I had some lovely musical accompaniment while installing the tank because—yes, dear readers—the surround sound is installed and working. My friend Jim found a nifty little system that comes with small speakers and--even better--an iPod dock. I ran a screw right smack into the speakers to hold them securely in place. Same with the TV. I mean, don’t you just hate when the home entertainment system goes flying across the house when you take a wide corner?

But those wires… What to do about them? There are gazillions of them in a home theater system. Should I just staple them to the wall? That’d look crappy and, besides, the walls of the camper are curved. Ugh. What to do, what to do… A-ha! If I run a bead of Liquid Nails on the contour of the wall maybe I can just set the wires right into it. Yes! It works just great! So the wires are not only out of the way and secure, they’re virtually invisible. (Note to self: remind me to tell you I love you.)

I hot-glued the iPod dock to the TV shelf and fired her up. The system volume goes up to 50. I had it set to 4 and the place was rocking! I can’t wait to settle back into the pillows and watch something like “Lawrence of Arabia” or “Close Encounters.” What a riot!

I picked up the T-shirts the other day and they’re just swell. I got to see the inner sanctum of the screening place and they even showed me the actual “Canned Ham” screen. The machine they use for the T-shirts looks like a cross between Fredric March’s automatic tyepsetting machine in “The Adventures of Mark twain” and Paul Newman’s automatic painting machine in “What A Way to Go.” (Two wholly obscure references, I know.) But they still squeegee the ink onto the shirts by hand, which I thought was cool. The place prints your logo onto virtually anything. I’m thinking: up next, refrigerator magnets.

A big Ham Holler to John, Bonnie, Tim, Spence, Lizzie, David, MJ, Irwin, Arlene, Amy, Bill, Randy, Allen and Scott for ordering T-shirts. I look forward to seeing pictures of you in them on the Facebook page. You’re blazing the trail!

(A note on the exterior: the polishing job is on hold. After eight hours of hand polishing and sweating and messiness and not a whole lot of ground covered I decided to look for another option. My friend Jeff at work suggested a pneumatic polisher like they use in a body shop. I found one online and it’s on its way. Until then the camper's going to sit with just one-third of one side shiny and bright and the rest of it quivering with antici-i-i-i... pation.)

Quest For Fire: The Musical!

2009-04-29T22:17:00.012-04:00

Jimmy the plumber showed up over the weekend with his assistant, Chris. They came by to work on the gas lines and to make me laugh. The two of them are Greene County’s own Martin & Lewis. And like the original version, this pair is only really funny because the things they say to each other are so dumb. “You really screwed up that elbow joint, bub,” Jimmy will tease Chris. “No, I didn’t—you did,” Chris answers. It goes back and forth like this with dopey putdowns and lame comebacks the entire time they’re working and—I can’t really explain why--it cracks me up.

I explained to Jim I wanted the stove hooked up and I wanted him to make sure the heater worked OK and that the propane lamp was operational. The lines underneath the camper appeared to be intact but the end near the propane tank had been snapped off at some point over the years.

Jim assumed his supervisor position inside the camper and called out directions to Chris. Chris quickly spliced a nipple onto the line near the tank and then went inside to re-connect the stove I salvaged from the camper at Deb’s place.

Jimmy kept voicing his concern over the heater. “I dunno about that… I kinda hate thinking of you turning that thing on and then going to sleep.” I assured him I’d never do that—I’d just heat up the place, turn off the gas and climb under the covers on a chilly night. “Can’t you just get a little space heater,” he asked. “But what if I’m in the middle of nowhere without power?”

“Ehhhhhh…. I just feel kinda weird about it. And that lamp—the line for that runs up through the wall. There could be a hairline spilt and you’d never know it ‘til you went kerblewy! Especially if Chris has anything to do with it. Right, Chris?”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

I went back inside the house to straighten up the place to get ready for my friend Nadine to drop by and, after half an hour or so, went back to the camper. “Look alive—here comes the homeowner,” Jimmy cackled. “I am alive; you’re not…” “Nobody’s gonna be alive if we light the stove with the smell of gas we got inside here.”

Yes, it turns out there were leaks in the line they hadn’t been able to see before turning on the propane tank. Chris had discovered them by crawling under the camper. The smell of gas was powerful indeed. Just then Nadine turned up and I told Jimmy to go ahead and do whatever he thought needed to be done while Nadine and I went to lunch to talk about the camper for her blog.

When we got back to the house Jimmy gave me the prognosis and result in one fell swoop: the line to the lamp appeared to have a leak inside the wall. Since I told him I didn’t want to open up any of the interior he just bypassed that altogether. So I’ve got a nice looking lamp on the wall that doesn’t work, but that also will not kill me.

As for the heater, Jim made an executive, and rather brilliant decision. Since, as he pointed out, the heater was merely a flame inside the vertical contraption on the wall, if I needed heat, why not just turn on the stove for a few minutes to warm up the place? He demonstrated this hypothesis by turning on all three burners. Within minutes the interior of the camper was sweltering. I was sold!

So now I have just one, completely new, single purpose gas line running uninterruptedly from the propane tank to the stove (and heater and light, if need be) which should keep me from going kerblewy!

“Right, Chris?”

“No, you are.”

On The Air!

2009-04-28T06:00:00.008-04:00

As if two blogs, a cross-country tour of a theatrical spectacular, historical preservation of mid-century aluminum cultural artifacts and a line of clothing wasn't enough, the "Canned Ham" empire now also encompasses a burgeoning video phenomenon. Here for your perusal is the premiere episode of "Hamming It Up!", the talk show shot on location in Canned Ham. My old friend Jeff Whitty came by for dinner and, to avoid washing the dishes, agreed to a sit-down with yours truly at the kitchen table of the camper. Shag carpet, musical theater and Richard Milhous Nixon are just a few of the things that came up in conversation.

Details, details.

2009-04-24T07:38:00.013-04:00

For such a humble, low-end object The Ham has some lovely touches. (Incidentally, I suppose I am “The Ham” in this scenario, but “The Can” seems an ignominious nickname to impose on such an innocent. So “The Ham” it is…) I mean, look at that spice rack: to avoid any confusion, its labeled “spices.” The chrome knobs on the cabinet not only reflect the light bouncing off the polyurethaned wood interior, but their concave surface offers the perfect depth when one positions one’s thumb for a secure grip. There's something Sputnikian about the simple, semi-spherical exterior lights, and the fiberglass, gold-threaded shade on the wall sconce offers a glimpse of the swinging sixties just around the corner. Even the faucet pump and knob have a subtle, ergonomic elegance about them. They may not be up to the standards of Mr. Raymond Lowey, but the anonymous designer toiling away in Wakarusa, IN at the FAN factory done his/her mama proud.

Of course, these detail shots of the details also show a lot of spittin’ and polishin’ and scrubbin’ and waxin’ yet to be done.

Jimmy the Plumber is on his way over this morning to have a gander at the gas lines. And the good folks at Economy Foam and Futon on 8^th Street (in the location of the old 8^th Street Playhouse, Luanne!) are hard at work on the cushions and throw pillows with contrasting piping. When I’m sure there are no major messes left to be made inside the camper I’ll lay the new tile floor. And, best of all, I have two tubs of Mother's Mag & Aluminum Polish next to me on the kitchen table just a-waiting to get out there to see if the skin will shine up like I'm hoping.

This project is just humming right along (on completely flat tires.)

Immediate update:

It's a verified fact I was born without the gene for patience. So after posting the above, I raced out back and cracked open the Mother's. Based on the final picture in the series I'm in for a bright and shiny future! Thank God I've got a power buffer (and no, that is not a euphemism.)

The Ability to Adapt

2009-04-20T07:42:00.011-04:00

According to the experts at Hillcrest Manor, campers nowadays have a little hatch on the outside just for things like turning on the propane fridge. Well, I’m not about to start slicing into the skin of a 50-year-old tin can, so after deciding that “genug ist genug,” I threw up my hands--holding them there a beat, for the sake of drama--and decided to just go ahead and install a nice, cheap, efficient mini-fridge from the Evil Empire (Wal-Mart.)

I found one that fits perfectly—after installing a little shelf--into the closet. I don’t imagine I’ll need to hang any full-length garments on this trip so I lost that option with impunity. As for the original icebox? I gave it the Krylon Makeover inside and out and slipped it right back into its slot. It has a shelf where one would have placed the big block of ice so it will henceforth be another little clothes closet. Like Marilyn, I shall keep my undies in the icebox.

I suppose I’ll have to toss the Beluga on the way to Death Valley, but dems da brakes.

One nice little surprise: the icebox had been lined with newspaper (for insulation, I guess) and there in the latest edition of the Catskill Mountain Star is an ad for pork loin roast for 27 cents-per-pound. Now, I ask you: where there's pork loin can Canned Ham be far behind?

Refrige... later!

2009-04-18T08:06:00.017-04:00

A lovely, smallish cardboard box was waiting for me on the front deck when I returned from the gym yesterday. “Refigerator,” it was labeled. Wow, that was fast! You see, I had found on an RV website a fridge designed specifically to replace the icebox on an older camper. And it runs on propane and electric! What could more perfect? True, it cost a heck of a lot more than the camper itself, but I thought, this might be something worth spending a little money on. What if I’m parked along some sweet stream in the middle of nowhere, or under a stovepipe cactus somewhere in the desert? Gotta have that crème fraiche on the caviar, right? One can take “roughing it” only so far, after all.

And here it is!

I lug it behind the house where the camper is resting, all nice and white-trash-like, debris strewn all over the place where I’ve just opened the camper door and tossed (therefore doing my bit to bring down property values on the road.) I set it down and carefully open the box. I had already removed the icebox in anticipation of the big day, so there was a nice gaping hole under the “Auotcrat” 3-burner stove. I see the new fridge is slightly larger than the original icebox. No problem there; I’ve got enough wiggle room in that spot to adjust the opening for the new unit.

But, um… hold on now. Where is the on/off switch? There’s nothing I can see anywhere on the door. Maybe inside? Nope, nothing on the interior of the unit. I step back and cock my head, trying to figure out where I might turn on my new refrigerator. I circle the beast, carefully observing and there, on the back, on the bottom of the back, on the bottom corner of the back of the refrigerator are the controls, including the propane ignition switch.

Am I missing something? This unit is screwed tight into the cabinet once it’s installed. How the heck am I supposed to get at the controls to operate it? And won’t the gas line be rigid and keep it in place even if it were partially moveable?

I’m stumped. Totally stumped. The only thing I can figure is that on most RVs slightly younger than half-a-century there’s some kind of hatch on the exterior where one could access the controls. As it is…? Well, I don’t imagine I’ll be disassembling my home every time I want to keep the olive loaf from spoiling.

Back to the drawing board!

But apart from that it’s progressing very nicely, thank you. The stove is indeed in place and waiting to be hooked up. I installed a couple of outlets and an additional reading light in the, um, bedroom. All the benches have new plywood seats to hold the cushions that are on order and as soon as I hem the curtains they can go onto the new curtain rods. And the second coat of polyurethane glossed the thing up so it looks like it’s lined in a layer of aspic. Later today I’ll be installing the TV and the surround sound system (which makes me laugh every time I say it) and when I scrape off the old crumbly tile I can lay the new kitchen floor.

Yessiree Bob, it’s moving right along!

Look how purty the camper’s looking already! (See the space where some as-yet-to-be-determined cooling device will go?) And look how happy I am to be sitting in my on-the-way-to-being-a-kitchen! (Note the 1-gallon can of polyurethane under the table. Or, "travel-size" as I call it.) And look how great the t-shirts will look when they exist! (It’s just a virtual, Photohopped garment at this point.)

Me likee!

(By the way, I’m open to suggestions for an appropriate magazine to pitch a 12-part series of my trip-tour-adventure.

Travel? Lifestyle? Gay? Gay lifestyle? Gay travel? Wig trends? Doll collectors?)

Pretty... Shiny...

2009-04-09T21:54:00.009-04:00

I’ve decided I’m going to look on my three months in the Caribbean as my own Yaddo. My private MacDowell Colony. My personal Landsberg Prison. I’m going to go there with the intention of writing. Hopefully I will produce something more akin to “Our Town” than to “Mein Kampf,” but I’ll settle for the royalties for either. What could be more perfect than to have a three-month sojourn before taking off on a long trip around the country with the idea of performing a one-man theater piece for whoever I can get to stand still long enough to listen to it? I shall be disciplined and focused on Saba; I will write the play I see myself performing in my mind’s eye.

And I really had better do so, because today I went and ordered the t-shirts for the tour.

Carla and Angie at the screening place were extremely helpful in getting my vision up and running. The t-shirts will be chocolate brown with the logo on the front and this very blog address on the back. Simple, stylish, available in the lobby. In the photo Angie is holding the dog which they were amazed didn’t bark while I was there (until they commented on how it wasn’t barking.)

A little progress on the Ham itself: I got everything cleared out that needed to go. I replaced the kitchen table with the one from the other camper at Deb’s. I Brillo’d the chrome knobs and cute little propane lamp to get them all clean and purty. I bought a couple of outlets and wire for the, well, for the TV and surround system. I placed some tiles on the floor to get an idea of what it will look like when that step is complete.

But most importantly, I put a coat of polyurethane on every possible wood surface. I buy high-gloss polyurethane in huge quantities because it is—with the possible exception of silicone-based lube—the greatest substance known to man. (I buy the lube in a 5-gallon container, too, but, alas, I’ve been going through a lot more polyurethane lately.)

Just look at that 50-year-old beauty glow! Polyurethane—it’s truly a miracle. It can give a dull old piece of wood a brilliant sheen and can cover up the smell of decades-old mouse urine. Nothin’ like it in the whole wide world!

Here are some pictures for your perusal. That last one… well, I had just gotten home from the gym and, uh, it was really warm out and, um, there was the tripod all set up and… Oh, just give me a break, will ya? I didn’t get to this point by being coy. (And at least I didn’t post the two subsequent frames. Yowza!)

Do I Smell Something Burning?

2009-04-03T21:35:00.019-04:00

The wheels they are a-turnin’! Granted, they’re not the wheels on the camper just yet, but the wheels in my noggin. I’m finessing the plan for the single-axle odyssey minute-by-minute. I’m also working (again, in my head) on the camper itself.

I dropped by the RV store the other day (now, how many of you can say that?) to do some research and discovered that there is such a thing as a refrigerator that runs on propane. Turns out everybody but me already knew about this, but most importantly, my mechanic knew about it and he also knows about the old camper out back in his salvage yard that has one. If it fits (and you can believe that sucker is gonna fit) he’s going to pull it out for the FAN. I pulled the extra kitchen tile from the storage space the other day, the surround sound system is ordered and on its way (I know, I know—I’m f---in’ insane!) and my dear friend Deb graciously allowed me to rip out the stove (it's an "Autocrat." Get it?), propane lamp and magazine rack from my old camper/guestroom that is now parked behind her house. (I’m going to have to get a scan of the frisky foto that appeared in Nerve Magazine that was taken in that camper.) As mentioned I've got the kitchen stuff already squirreled away in the shed and I also scouted out a new jack contraption for the tongue (hey, that’s what the thing is called at the front of the camper!)

So I’m trying to balance the practical (hah--"practical"!) with the fun.

So much for the camper side of things.

As for the trip itself, I’m starting to get a clearer picture of the basic m.o. I’ve been thinking I’d stop along the way and get a little part-time job here and there. Check out Craigslist for somebody wanting help moving boxes, shoveling gravel… that kind of thing. But I also thought I’d walk into a restaurant some night and offer to play the squeezebox for a couple of hours in exchange for a meal. So very Woody Guthrie, I know. I started to run with that idea and thought, hmmmm, why not do a little advance work and find out what the gay bar is in the next town and say That Guy Who Used To Be Gus Mattox will be there in a couple of days and would love to play the accordion at the bar. Y’know, work up a playlist and tell a couple of anecdotes or something.

And then, like a CGI sequence from that interminably dull “Beautiful Mind” all the bits swirled around me and fell into place. When I stepped back to get a better perspective I saw this:

While I’m on Saba, I'm going to write a 30-40 minute one-man show about me and all the crazy adventures I’ve had—Broadway… porn… house flipping… some of the—ahem—other stuff… and how all that coalesced to drop me on the road in a 50-year-old camper. 'Cause I'm, like, an actor, too?! I have so many stories from my various websites already in essay form that really all I’d have to do would be to arrange them in a playing order and write some connecting passages. That would all be interspersed with songs on the accordion. It could really tie together all the disparate things I do into one laughsational fun-filled sextravaganza that any self-respecting gay bar would be happy to book. And pay for. And give drink tickets to.

Of course I’d also exploit any and all media connections I may still have to promote the thing ahead of time so by the time I lope into town the buzz would be like a hive of drones transmogrifying themselves into queens (you’re gonna have to ask Mindy about that…)

But wait, there’s more!

I’ve already got the obvious name for the show and the tour: “The ‘Canned Ham’ Tour.” I, naturally, would be the ham; the camper is the can. I mean, I’ve already got the logo, too. And when you’ve got a logo, can t-shirts be far behind? No, they can’t! I picture myself stepping down from the stage (or bar… or speaker…) to tumultuous, drunken applause and working my way to a table in the back where my t-shirts are already set up and waiting to be sold. I think I may have one or two or 100 gusmattox.com t-shirts lying around somewhere. Surely they could be sold as well?

I am seeing this thing take on a life of its own. And, what’s more, hopefully paying for itself. I figure it’ll be a great way to meet lots of new people, finagle places to park the camper for free and just have the grandest, gayest time imaginable.

Methinks the t-shirts might even be showing up before the Saba trip, so get those PayPal accounts fired up, folks!

When Will The Madness End?!

2009-03-29T19:25:00.014-04:00

Of all the cockamamie schemes I’ve had in my life—and there have been plenty—this latest thing I’m cooking up may be the nuttiest. As if things in my world weren’t fluid enough as it is I decide to buy a 50-year-old camper from what is, for all intents and purposes, the junkyard down the road from me, fix it up (in my inimitable fashion, of course) and take off to see the country with no itinerary, no time frame and absolutely no experience whatsoever towing something behind my car. Oh, and with a cat. And an accordion. Within spitting distance of fifty.

But that, my fixed-address friends, is the plan. When I return from my summer adventure in the Caribbean on or about September 1^st, I’ll shake the water out of my ears, show off my tan-line, rent out the house for an extended period and shove off.

If any of y’all have had the perseverance to stick with me over the years you already know that ideas come into my head and I run with ‘em. The germ of this plan was this past winter—jeez, but it was a tough one! Cold cold cold and a lot of snow and, frankly, born-and-bred in the northeast that I am, I’m over it. I’ve mentioned elsewhere that I’ve researched lots of different places to live (in the event I were, in fact, to leave the area) and so many things took my fancy that I was having a devil of a time narrowing down my options.

So, when I noticed the little silver-colored camper sitting quite serenely in the yard full of crap that I pass every day on the way to the gym, a light bulb went off over my head. Being me, it was, of course, a decorative Christmas tree bulb (transparent blue) that blinked if you remembered to put in that little disc that sometimes comes with the string of lights into the first socket on the string.

I remembered to put in the disc.

The owner of the camper was on site one day last week, I stopped to chat and—before you can say “ball jack”--I was the proud owner of a 1958 Fan Coach Company 12-foot-sleeps-four camper. For exactly one hundred dollars.

Granted, the condition of the thing is not exactly pristine. Most of the interior pieces are there, but not necessarily installed. You’re not gonna want to fix a cozy meal in it as it is right now. In fact, you’ll probably want to wear rubber gloves and a mask just to step inside.

But did that stop me from making an Ikea run on Friday on my way up from the city? Nosiree Bob! My camper may not have anything resembling seats at the kitchen table, but it does have plates, glasses, silverware and pots and pans. And curtains for the (currently glassless) windows and fabric for the (currently cushionless) benches.

And it has that logo.

The fellow I bought it from mentioned the nickname of this style of camper is “canned ham.” I had never heard that before (in spite of the fact that this is the third camper I’ve fixed up; the other two were glorified lawn ornaments that never saw road trips) but as soon as I heard it I liked it. It sure looks like a canned ham and—considering my retiring personality—it could be said to contain a big slab o' smokehouse pork when I am finally in residence. My pop-culture-wired brain immediately went from ham to “To Kill A Mockingbird.” Remember Scout takes part in her school pageant dressed as a ham just before Bob Ewell attacks her? Somehow all those things seemed to be of a piece and (as the French would say,) wah-la! The Canned Ham logo.

It’s going to go on the back of the camper, above the rear (bedroom--hah!) window with this very website address underneath it. That way other travelin’ folks on the road can keep in touch with me during my travels and travails. (I’ve Photoshopped that on to one of the photos below. Clearly, I’ve got my priorities.) I’m going to get a wireless modem for the laptop so I can update this blog any time I like.

I’m thinking after a real good cleaning, and a fresh coat of stain and polyurethane I can start decorating. I really like the design scheme I came up with for my own house, and the era is approximately the same (1958 vs. 1960 for the house) so I decided to copy it. I even have left-over floor tiles to recreate the floor pattern. The seat cushions will have the same upholstery fabric my kitchen chairs have and even the curtains will be the same.

Talk about your home-away-from home!

I’ll install a little TV/DVD player in the bedroom area and I’m even thinking about putting in a surround sound system. I figure if I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere on a rainy day I can snuggle down with the cat and watch a bunch of movies in splendor. Not to mention the essential iPod to provide my daily soundtrack.

The outside needs a good clean and buff and I’ll have to install a new awning over the door for the full effect. My mechanic will update the tail-lights and give the chassis a once-over while I’m away over the summer.

One big drawback was the lack of title and registration. This thing had been sitting in the yard for decades and the guy I bought it from had no idea where it had come from, much less where the documentation was, or if it even still existed. So imagine my girlish intake of breath when I pulled up the groady old shelf liner in the kitchen cabinet and found a little white envelope that contained the original bill of sale and the title and registration in absolutely pristine condition! That find will save me mucho time and trouble. Clearly, it was a sign.

All these things will be documented in words and pictures right here, you can be sure.

One thing I need to be clear about: I may get out on the road and two days later decide this is definitely not a project for me. I may get just as far as Pennsylvania and find the perfect little town and stay there for a year. Or—the most likely deal-breaker—some amazing opportunity may present itself to me when I’m on Saba and I’ll forget I ever even had a camper with a cute logo on the back of it.

But, folks, I have this fantasy in my head of finding some secluded spot off the road next to a stream, setting up the camper just as the sun begins to go in, fixing a bite to eat and—after the dishes have been washed in the little sink with the pump handle—putting out the folding chair under the striped awning as the crickets start to chirp. Mickey is giving herself a bath just inside the screen door after her own dinner and I get out the accordion and start to play a sweet little waltz meant for just the two of us.

Ahhhhhhh….. I’m relaxed already.